Chapter III: Home

_Granny_

When Granny comes to stop with us she always loves to play;
She talks to every single doll and knows just what to say.
You haven't got to tell her why and lots of things explain,
She's been a little girl like me and wants to be again!

She knows Eliza's got a cough and only has one lung,
She knows Matilda's very bad and says, "Put out your tongue."
She always has a penny for the sweetshop in the lane,
She's been a little girl like me and wants to be again!

She knows a lot of lovely songs and every nursery rime,
She always knows that three o'clock is such a hungry time;
She lets me hold all by myself the 'brella in the rain--
I'm glad she's been a little girl and wants to be again!

_Blossoms_

Little baby blossoms
Swinging in the trees,
Laughing at the daisies,
Kissing all the bees.
Little baby blossoms
Are very sweet and small,
But Mother's little blossom
Is sweeter than them all!

Little baby blossoms,
Dress in white and pink,
Holding cups of honey
For the bees to drink;
But Mother's little blossom
Has eyes, and nose, and chin,
With the sweetest little dimple
To tuck the kisses in!

Every baby blossom
Swinging gaily there
Grows into an apple,
Or perhaps a pear;
But Mother's little blossom,
Deny it if you can,
Will wear a coat and trousers,
And grow into a man!

_Aunty's Album_

When Aunty says that I may look
Inside her precious album-book
I have to sit upon a chair
And take it on my lap _with care_!

There's Uncle John Josiah Brown
(He has a frame all blue and brown);
He wears a tie all long and wide,
And whiskers growing on each side!

There's Great-Aunt Henrietta too
(_Her_ frame is pink and green and blue),
Her curls hang down beneath her cap,
And you should see her satin lap!

There's Grandpapa, with snow-white hair,
And Grandmamma upon a chair;
There are three cousins, if you please,
With hands put stiffly on their knees.

There's Mummy in the queerest hat,
And Daddy looking very fat;
There's Aunty Bess and Uncle Jim--
It's really very good of him!

But quite the queerest thing I see
Is somebody they say is _me_!
A horrid little stuck-up girl,
With hair done up in one big curl!

Says Aunty softly in my ear,
"_Be careful of the album, dear._"
And then she puts it right away,
Until I come another day.

_Aunt Matilda_

When Aunt Matilda's in the house
I have to walk just like a mouse.

I dare not make a noise, you see,
Because her eye just looks at me.

And if I want to leave my crust
I eat it 'cos I feel I must.

She has a Sunday-morning look,
And reads a fat, improving book.

And once, when she was rather ill,
She said she'd put me in her _will_!

I ran away, I didn't care,
For fear that she _should put me there_!

But when I told my daddy, he
Just laughed and laughed and laughed at me!

_Aunt Matilda Again_

When Aunt Matilda stays with us
We have to be so neat and clean,
And Father makes a dreadful fuss,
Till after Aunty's been.

We never have to make a noise,
It's so unladylike, you see,
For girls to act like great rough boys.
(I'm sure that's meant for me!)

We go to bed at seven P.M.,
That is the hour that Aunties keep
When they are young! (I pity them--
However _did_ they sleep!)

We have to be so very good--
At meal-times never once be late,
And eat up every scrap of food
Upon the dinner-plate.

On Sundays we must always wear
Our dresses with clean 'tuckers' in;
I really don't know how I bear
The pricking on my chin!

But Father dear forgets to frown,
And Mother looks quite young again,
When Aunty gets the _Bradshaw_ down,
And finds a morning train.

_When Mummy has a Headache_

When Mummy has a headache
I help her all I can;
I put scent on a hankie,
And fan her with a fan.

I play with little Jackie
(He's very nearly three),
And then I lay the table,
And make the toast for tea.

When Mummy has a headache,
I kiss her on her hair,
And tell her not to worry,
'Cause I am ready there.

And Mummy's head gets better--
And once I heard her say,
A darling little fairy
Had sent it _quite_ away!

_To Mummy_

I shall never leave you, Mummy,
Even when I'm tall.
I'll build a darling little house
Beside our garden wall.
And you'll never see me grown-up,
You'll only see me small.

I'll never leave you, Mummy,
Because you'd miss me so,
But Daddy says it's awkward
(And Daddy ought to know),
And so I've _quite_ decided
_I don't intend to grow!_

_Naughty_

I ain't a-goin' to wash myself, nor brush and comb my hair,
I call it just a waste of time, for dust is everywhere;
I get myself as black as black a hundred times a day,
So what's the good o' washing, anyway?

I ain't a-going to bed at all; the best time for a lark
Is when the inside is lit up and outside all is dark;
And if you go to bed at night you get up when it's day,
So what's the good o' goin', anyway?

_The Little Drawer_

Mother has a little drawer
Which she will unlock for me,
When I'm very, very good,
With a tiny key!

In it are the nicest things,
Little socks and baby's shoes;
Just the ones I like the best
Mother lets me choose.

There are tiny pinafores,
And a faded frock, I see.
Mother says the little frock
Once belonged to me.

There's a tiny hat as well,
Made of lace with crumpled strings;
And the teeny-weeny bibs
Are such darling things!

Lavender is here and there
In the cosy little drawer;
And I beg to look again,
Just a little more!

"Why does Mother keep them all?"
But she only strokes my hand:
When I'm big as Mother dear
I shall understand!

_Mother and the Dark_

When Mother tucks me up in bed and kisses me good-night
I often wish she'd leave the lamp a weeny bit alight,
For whispers seem to float about and little shadows creep,
And though I try so very hard I cannot go to sleep!

The pillow gets into a lump and sticks into my head,
The bedclothes go and twist themselves and tumble off the bed;
There was a biscuit that I ate (I saved it from my tea),
And every tiny little crumb seems sticking into me!

I see the Dark come riding by--he looks so big and tall,
And when I think I am asleep I'm not asleep at all;
And so I pull the bedclothes up and tuck them round my chin
To stop the little bits of Dark from trying to get in.

But somehow all the horrid clothes seem slipping off from me,
The silly counterpane is where the blanket ought to be;
I pull and pull like anything to get them round my feet,
But all that I can find is just a little bit of sheet!

But somebody is at the door, for I can see her peep,
And somebody is whispering, "Is little Boy asleep?"
And Mother comes and tucks me up and drives the Dark away,
For Dark and mothers can't agree, whatever you may say!

_Influenza_

My daddy had an aching head
And looked so ill that Mother said,
"Don't make a noise, for Dad's in bed,
_In bed with Influenza_."

I crept up like a mouse would creep,
In case dear Daddy was asleep,
And round the door I tried to peep
_To look at Influenza!_

I only saw dear Daddy's head
Upon the pillow on the bed.
He was alone ... yet Mother said
_He was with Influenza!_

_The Little Boy Next Door_

There is a little boy next door,
He often peeps at me
When Nursie takes me for a walk
Before I have my tea.
And when I take my dollies out
He watches more and more--
I wonder why he doesn't play--
The little boy next door!

His eyes are very big and brown,
His hair is soft and bright;
But I am sure he's ill, because
His face is thin and white.
He never walks a single step,
Although I'm sure he's four--
His nursie always carries him--
The little boy next door!

Sometimes he waves his hand to me
And beckons me--like this:
And I just climb up on my chair
And blow him back a kiss.
He loves to watch the sunbeams dance,
Or great big raindrops pour;
And every tiny birdie knows
The little boy next door!

But yesterday--I can't forget--
I stood up in my chair
To beckon to the little boy;
But, oh! he wasn't there.
And Nursie said he'd gone away--
She wouldn't tell me more--
I wonder if he thinks of me--
The little boy next door!

_A Little Boy's Thoughts_

I'm tired of being tidy,
And having to "take care";
I wish I hadn't collars,
I wish I hadn't hair.
I'd rather be a tiger,
An elephant, or bear,
A Hottentot or Zulu,
Or lion in his lair.
I'd rather have an island,
Away just anywhere,
Than go on being tidy--
So there!

I'm tired of being tidy,
And having clothes to wear;
They always lose their buttons,
Or split themselves and tear.
I'd rather be an eagle
And soar up in the air;
I'd rather be a leopard
With yellow eyes that stare;
I'd rather be a cowboy
(If I could only dare!)
Than go on being tidy--
So there!

_Two Dolls_

I have two little dollies, they both belong to me,
And though they both are dollies they're different as can be.
About my little dollies I'll tell you all I can,
One's called Belinda Bella and one Eliza Ann.

Belinda's hair is golden, her eyes a lovely blue,
Her dress is soft and frilly, and tied with ribbon too,
She has a pretty bonnet, and shoes and gloves and fan,
For she's Belinda Bella and not Eliza Ann.

Eliza's hair is browny, one eye has gone away,
She has a flannel nighty and wears it all the day,
Her face is scratched and battered, just like our wat'ring-can;
She's not Belinda Bella, but just Eliza Ann.

I know Belinda Bella is beautiful to see,
And when I go out walking Belinda comes with me;
But when in bed I cuddle as closely as I can
I do not have Belinda, but dear Eliza Ann.

I do not mind the scratches upon Eliza's face,
I'd rather have her nighty than yards of frilly lace.
Just come and I will whisper as softly as I can--
I _like_ Belinda Bella, but I LOVE Eliza Ann!

_Tibby_

Four black legs and four white paws,
Pinky pads and curving claws,
Making marks on people's doors,
That's Tibby.

Little shirt-front, snowy-white,
Two green eyes so round and bright,
Velvet body strong and light,
That's Tibby.

Pinky tongue that washes fur,
Every part except his purr,
Sometimes much too bored to stir,
That's Tibby.

Walking so he won't be heard,
Hiding 'neath the ferns preferred,
Watching for a dicky-bird,
Oh, Tibby!

Stretching on the kitchen mat,
Long and lovely, sleek and fat,
Quite a yard of pussy-cat,
My Tibby!

Take what pretty things you see--
Take the cake I've made for tea--
Take my doll, but leave to me
My Tibby!

_The Thin Cat_

He walked upon our garden wall,
He hadn't got a home at all,
The thin cat, the thin cat,
The little homeless thin cat!

I don't believe he ever purr'd,
He never knew a loving word,
The thin cat, the thin cat,
The little homeless thin cat!

But Mother said, "Go, bring him in,
I cannot bear to see him thin,"
The thin cat, the thin cat,
The little homeless thin cat!

So now he purrs upon the mat,
His coat is soft--he's warm and fat,
The fat cat, the fat cat,
The little cared-for fat cat!

_Pussy Language_

Only one word has Tabby,
Only one word has she,
For breakfast and dinner and supper,
And in between dinner and tea.

"_Me-ow_" stands for milk and for pudding,
"_Me-ow_" stands for fish and for meat,
"_Me-ow_" as she waits on the carpet,
And pats with her two little feet.

"_Me-ow_" for the mouse in the cupboard,
"_Me-ow_" for the sparrow outside,
"_Me-ow_" for the bed warm and cosy,
And everything comfy beside.

Only one word has Tabby,
Think, little children, of that.
You'd never be bothered with grammar
If you were a nice little cat!

_Estella_

Estella is as good as gold--
She always does as she is told--
Her pinafore is always clean,
Her shoes the shiniest I've seen.

Her nose is straight, so is her hair,
She's not untidy anywhere,
And if she knocks against me, she
Bows low and whispers, "Pardon me."

Her lessons they are always done
Before she has her play and fun;
And everything is put away--
Estella says it's part of play.

She hates to play and make a noise:
She says that we are girls, not boys.
She will not even ride a bike--
You see, it's so unladylike.

And when she comes to Sunday tea
She never eats as much as me;
She says it is an ugly sight
To see a vulgar appetite.

Estella says, "I want to grow
As noble as Mamma, you know,"
And Mother says to me, "My dear,
I'm glad to have Estella here."

The very thought gives me a fright,
It is a nightmare in the night.
However can I go and tell her
_I simply hate and loathe Estella?_

_Dreams_

In Nursery Land when lights are low,
And shadows hurry to and fro,
The Dream Man comes when day is done
And gives a dream to every one!

One dream will make you float in air
Instead of climbing up the stair,
Another gives you spreading wings
Instead of legs and other things!

And one will make you seem so small
You cannot feel yourself at all,
Another, you may walk a mile
By stepping only once a while!

Another makes you, oh, so high,
You very nearly touch the sky;
You turn and give a monster jump,
And wake in time to miss the bump!